Serpentine Torment
by Indominus Des
Summary: When a certain goddess shows up at Eos's camp demanding that they save her son, who is she to refuse? Accompanied by a winged centaur and pygmy satyress, she's a bit less than thrilled. A strange prophecy from a snake sends her on her way, to a place of myth and realities, death and hope, and filled with plenty of romance.


The campfire was blazing purple with glee as the Apollo kids led a song. Of course, I didn't sing along. It was ridiculous.  
I wish I could go to Camp Half-Blood, in New York. No, I had to go to Camp Dragon-Heart, in Texas. Still, I mean, our camp director was a naiad named Ysolda in a motorized aquarium. Little water box with wheels on it. Our activities directed was some old, angry satyr named Bauler. He had a golf club and a bad attitude. At the moment, Bauler was glaring at me because I wasn't singing. Note, I'm a kid of Dionysus, so I could totally boss this old goat around. But I didn't, because I could get in trouble with Ysolda.  
"Why aren't you singing, Eos?" His squinty eyes glinted in the light as he swung his golf club menacingly.  
Now, I knew if I responded it would be some snotty comeback, and I would likely be saying nighty-night to that club.  
Luckily, I didn't have to. An angry poof of pink powder and glitter exploded into existence in front of the campfire, getting in the front row's eyes and hair. Luckily I was in the back.  
The poof harbored a female figure, and when it cleared, the most beautiful woman came into view.  
Her features kept morphing until they eventually settled on a woman who looked oddly like my mother, who I deemed the most beautiful woman ever, but this new lady took the cake.  
"Hello, mortals." She spoke in a voice that was sweet but sarcastic at the same time. I loved it. "I am in need of a hero to go in search for my son. You see, I am busy at the moment with... Personal matters, and am unable to fetch him myself." She scanned the silent crowd until Phil -our resident winged centaur- bowed in front of her and spoke, "I would be honored to go, lady Aphrodite." His dreads hung over his flawless, sharp face.  
She smiled and nodded, still scanning the crowd when her eyes stopped dead on me.  
"You there. Long black curls, blue eyes."  
I looked around for anyone else who fit the description, but all eyes were on me.  
"You're wearing a sweater that says 'I'm too sober for this'. Child of Dionysus, I assume?"  
I kept glancing around, pretending it wasn't me.  
"Icelandic?"  
"How do you know that?" I asked while standing up.  
"Honey, you're paler than the moon. Now, um... You there! The cute little satyr!"  
For a horrified moment I thought she meant Baulder, but my friend Pippa, the pygmy satyress, squeaked instead. "M-me?" Her usually narrow violet eyes widened in surprise.  
"Of course, my dear! Now, it's hot here and I'm tired. Go get a prophecy from your oracle or something." And then she poofed away.  
I groaned inwardly. Unlike ANY OTHER CAMP, even the Roman ones, our oracle was some kind of snake in a cage. It was perfectly harmless, but sometimes spewed green smoke in the shape of stuff.  
Phil sighed stiffly and trotted over to the shack of the oracle, leaving me and Pippa to follow behind.  
His short sable tail flicked in annoyance as Pippa kept asking questions like, "What's the oracle? Why was I picked?" Etc.  
"Look, I don't know why either of you were chosen, but it was obviously random, ladies. I'll just handle this." His dark eyes flicked back and forth to Pippa and I, then he turned around and opened the shack door. Pippa squeaked and ran for him, grabbing onto his dark mocha arm. Phil sighed in annoyance and fluttered his black wings, but said nothing and held her hand anyways.  
Her tiny tail swished as they walked inside, while I reluctantly followed along.  
The case was the only thing inside the shack, along with the tiny orange snake. It blinked at us, then chartreuse smoke hissed out of it's mouth as it's eyes turned milky white. Words formed out of the smoke:

 _The three who go north will be met by myth_

 _And the following fourth will be the fifth_

 _Godly child will kill the queen_

 _And all shall find the meaning between._

And then the snake fell silent, curling up. The temperature dropped a few degrees as we walked out.  
"So, we go north?" Pippa said.  
Phil nodded, and said, "It's the best lead we've got. Let's go pack our things, I guess." He sighed.


End file.
